


Memories

by themoonowl



Series: A Real Hero [9]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: As you do, Drawing, Gen, M/M, Mass Effect 2, Nightmares, Normandy-SR2, Panic Attacks, Post-Horizon (Mass Effect), Samed Is A Boy Scout, Unexpected Friendship, because he really is a boy scout, dealing with stuff by drawing, gonna use that tag for every piece of this series now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 03:04:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20167093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonowl/pseuds/themoonowl
Summary: Samed Shepard has nightmares about being spaced. He wakes up restless.





	Memories

_ There is a chill in the air as Samed overlooks the Wards. A warm feeling building inside of him, lifting him, cradling him… _

_ Jump. _

_ He is lightweight, screaming, helpless, not a sound coming from his mouth—  _

_ Darkness. _

_ Then light. _

_ The two angels look down on him— No, not angels. Doctors—Miranda and Wilson. He is alive. _

_ Darkness again. Miranda shoots Wilson. A light pierces the darkness, a dark-haired man with light brown eyes, shooting Miranda’s brains off. He places the gun on his head and says with his silvery voice, “Goodbye Shepard. And be careful.” _

* * *

A gasp. It was just a dream. One of  _ those _ dreams again. Samed's heart pounded in his ears as he reached for the bottle of water next to his bed. He placed its neck to his lips and drank—the cold liquid slowly sharpening his senses.

He sat like that for a while, rolling the bottle between his fingers as he forced himself fully awake. A pain gnawed at his stomach, an urge to just— Something. Anything. He laid on the bed again, the endless sky of stars above him giving at least some semblance of ease. But it wasn’t enough. He was still so alone, so lonely, so… meaningless. This whole thing was just—

Why was he alive? To stop the Collectors, yeah, sure. But his life didn’t belong to him. Sovereign was bad, but his crew then—they were  _ his _ . He called the shots, he worked with them as  _ friends _ . Not hirelings. Only Garrus remained, and even he had changed. And seeing Kaidan… Will he even see Kaidan again? Would things ever get back to normal after everything that’s happened?

Memories of Horizon replayed in his head, different scenarios of what he could’ve said differently, of what he would’ve done. And they were all moot. 

He got up and grabbed the civilian uniform he usually wore. And just held it. The Cerberus logo stood out, it felt wrong to put it on now—it always did. But he couldn’t stay in this room. He put on a black tank top with just the pants—the only piece of the uniform that was free of the damned orange circle—and went on the prowl.

But for what? Everyone in the ship was probably asleep, so there was no chance of any kind of small talk to get him out of his haze. Maybe port observation? Yeah, that seemed like a good spot. Lots of things to occupy the hands and mind there.

Stepping out of the elevator and heading right, the port observation door opened to the wide window that was the centerpiece of the room. Samed wandered to it and placed an arm on the glass, leaning on it.

Kaidan would probably like it here, he thought. He would sit there on the sill, reading some kind of old book. Or watching some kind of sports game. Or just sitting there, deep in thought as he usually was. Samed's mouth curved upwards at those thoughts. It made it easier, somehow. Thinking about these things.

A small stack of plain white paper on the table to his left caught his eye. He grabbed it, along with the largest hardcover book he could find and a pencil. But this wasn't the right room to do this—he could feel the cameras and EDI watching, observing every movement, sound or even vital sign.

He took the elevator to the hangar, found a well-lit corner and sat, pouring the image of Kaidan in his mind onto the paper. The rough circles soon became arms, legs, torso and head and the little rectangle between his palms—some kind of book that Kaidan's eyes were enthralled in. The drawing had a warm smile on his face, the kind that he would give him back when—

Two years ago. Two years he spent practically dead.  _ Two. Years. _

No wonder Kaidan was angry on Horizon. He found him after two years,  _ two years _ that he thought him dead. And now he worked for a terrorist organisation.

Samed closed his eyes and banged the back of his head on the hangar's wall, gritting his teeth as his chest burned. The same pain as when the air escaped his lungs, as his life flashed before his eyes. As his mind tried to hold on to Kaidan's memory like it was doing so now. Through gritted teeth a tear rolled down his scarred cheek. Two years.  _ Two years _ . Things weren't— _ won't _ be the same after that long. The moment had passed.

The peaceful image that now stood in front of him in black and white—it hurt. It hurt _bad_. It reminded of a future that didn't belong to him, that _couldn't_ _ever _belong to him. An undead man working for terrorists did not deserve this, no matter how much he convinced himself that he held the situation under control. All that awaited him now was the Omega-4 Relay and after that… Hell, most likely. It was what he deserved.

"Cute guy," a thin voice whispered from the shadows, "Love the hair. Does he use some kind of special gel or does it just stay like that on its own?" Kasumi decloaked in a sitting position next to him.

Samed quickly wiped his eyes and cheeks and after adjusting his throat, asked the small woman, "How long have you been sitting there, Kasumi?"

"I watched you draw the entire thing. You have a talent, Shep."

"Thanks," he awkwardly said, his voice stabilizing and becoming a bit more like his calm self.

"And it's not often someone steals from a thief. That paper was mine you know."

"I'm sorry. Here, you can have it back."

"Keep it. You can use it to draw more things. Or you know, wallow in sadness over whatever it is you're drawing."

"Is that why you decided to show your face?"

"In a way. Me and you, we're not so different. I see that now."

"You mean, about Keiji?"

Kasumi nodded. "Is this some old lover of yours too?"

"No. Kaidan used to be part of my old crew, before I— two years ago."

"You don't just draw any crew member. Besides,  _ you're _ the one that made the comparison to my Keiji," Kasumi grinned. "So… tell me about this Kaidan."

"I appreciate your concern Kasumi, but I don't—"

"Oh hush!" Kasumi pulled out a bottle of purple liquid and two glasses from behind her, most likely from the lounge. "I am doing this for myself as much as I'm doing it for you," she said as she poured the purple liquid. "I needed a drink. Now talk."

"Kaidan…" Samed sighed. "Where to start? We fought together in the battle for the Citadel. Then I— then the Normandy crashed. Two years pass and I see him again on Horizon. He wasn't happy I'm working for— with—that I'm working  _ with _ Cerberus."

"Yeah, those Alliance guys are always such moralists."

"Hey, I'm one of those Alliance guys."

"And that's good. Cerberus needs a moralist. Just not the Alliance. They've already got too many."

"So anyway, that's the story."

"Oh please. Give me the juicy details, Shep. Or do I have to extract them myself?" Kasumi activated her omni-tool.

"Alright, fine. We had a night out before I… died. It was… nice," Samed shifted his eyes as he sipped from the mystery purple drink.

"Oh, how poetic! A romance just on the verge of blooming and it's tragically ended by a Collector ship. You should put this in a novel. People might go wild."

"Ends? We're both still alive."

"And there's the answer you were looking for, right?" Kasumi raised a playful eyebrow at Samed before turning a bit sad. "Keiji and me… now that’s a romance with a tragic end. You said it yourself, you're both alive. You don't have only your memories to cling to. Sure, he might not trust you now because he's a stinky moralist, but I've watched you ever since I got here, Shepard. You're a good sort. Don't limit yourself to just memories. You can do so much more."

Samed let out a long sigh intended for relief, but not quite living up to the expectations placed on it. "Thanks Kasumi," he said, "I guess I needed this."

"I know. That's why I'm here. If Keiji were listening to this talk, he would also add some silly comment about my sentimentality."

Samed chuckled. "Sentimental is good. I like sentimental."

Kasumi finished her drink and soon so did Samed. She picked up the mystery bottle of purple drink and started to walk towards the elevator when she turned one last time. "Let's do this again sometime, Shep," her teeth gleamed behind a grin, "Maybe you can paint a portrait of me and Keiji."

"I'm afraid you're giving me too much credit, Ms. Goto. I'm not  _ that _ good. And I don't even have the right supplies here."

"Eh, asking was worth a shot. Good night, Shep," she disappeared just as the elevator door opened.

"Good night, Kasumi."

Samed made some minor finishes to the piece and folded it twice before going for the elevator. Better that any cameras not pick it up, he thought. No use in giving the Illusive Man any more blackmail material than he already had.

He stepped out of the elevator and into his quarters. This thing needed to be kept in a secure location. He glanced over to his armor drawer and took out the inner padding of his torso. He slid the folded piece of paper deep into one of the creases of the thick fabric and placed the armor back inside. It should be safe there from any prying eyes.

His heart still racing, he took a long, deep breath as he closed the drawer. It was going to be okay.

Well, it wasn't. But he needed to live. For humanity—nay, all of life's sake. And for a better future. Even if it looked bleak and hopeless from where he was standing.

He stripped down to his smallclothes and rested his head on the pillow, listening to his heartbeat slowly get back to normal and his breath get slower as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
